


Marcens Holoserica

by orphan_account



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, i hope the requester likes it though, ridiculously vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An incident leaves Makoto paralysed after a successful first year in University, Tokyo. Falling back on someone and staying there for so long has never been so hard; but Haruka understood why.</p>
<p>It was only a matter of time and patience until Makoto also understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marcens Holoserica

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muuchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muuchan/gifts).



> The basis of this fic is that Makoto - after beginning university in Tokyo - got involved in some MMPORG/online simulation and it went so awry that he was left immobile for months. I went with near paralysis, though he did remain in a state of coma before it. Think SAO.  
> This fic is about Haru and Mako, and how forgiveness of oneself goes a long way in the process of healing. It's even better, Makoto will realize, when it's with someone who loves you despite all that's happened.

“Makoto, are you okay?”

The question had become a frequent as of late. Haru couldn’t remember the last time he had even gotten an answer that was actually believable.

Beyond the obvious _‘I’m alright, Haru’_ he would get, Haru just couldn’t bring himself to even pretend Makoto was being honest anymore. It was the defeated look on his face, and the bitterness that had taken Haruka a long, long time to truly understand.

“Was it a nightmare ag--?”

“I’m _fine_ , Haruka.” His shoulders were raised as he leaned his weight on the sink of Haru’s bathroom. He couldn’t see his face, but he could tell sweat had his hair clinging to the back of his neck and his hands were clutching the edge of the sink tightly.

The ache in his chest was something of a dull, continuous hurt that hadn’t really stopped in a while. He knew it was pointless to feel that way, just as much as he knew it was pointless trying to comfort someone when the situation was so dire.

Haru’s eyes trailed down to his legs. Even under the loose slacks that hung low on his hips, Makoto’s knees were shaking, and his toes were pale from the cold tiles of the bathroom that which he stood on. The physical therapy had brought him a long way since the incident, and when they finally gave back the wheelchair, Makoto’s demeanour had dramatically been elated, finally free of the assistance that Haru thought had almost been insulting to him.

But he knew this wasn’t about pride.

Makoto, though proud in his own noble way, was not so arrogant that he’d be ungrateful for the help. But the knowledge of him putting himself in this situation - _careless, foolish, **stupid**_ he had once spat out in a moment of trust- was what had made him change so much.

The tension in his back and shoulders spoke of anger and humiliation, but none of it was directed at Haruka. All internalized, just like Makoto always functioned.

All internalized, where he didn’t like to share his burdens.

Having to be reduced to near-paralysis for months had taken its toll on him, but in a manner that he would never be able to forgive himself for. The mortification of not even being able to walk to their kitchen to get himself a glass of water hadn’t really set in until he tried it.

Alarmed by the noise, Haruka had ran out to the corridor to see Makoto at the very end, just barely a few steps outside their room. His hand was on the wall, their pictures that were closest to their door knocked down as he panted; the effort to go just that far had drained him.

Haru supposed that was when Makoto had transitioned from mourning his condition to loathing it. And it frightened Haru how it had changed him. It frightened him even more that Makoto was rejecting him.

“Don’t tense your shoulders, Mako.” he said, as softly as he could manage, as long, skilful fingers pressed down on the muscles, kneading them to relaxing. Makoto didn’t look at him. He wasn’t even startled when Haru stepped up behind him as soundlessly as he did.

It wasn’t until Haru carefully guided him to face him did he see his expression. Desolate, lost. So very tired. Guilty.

_No. Why are you guilty?_

He didn’t say it. Haru knew why. He didn’t agree with it, but he understood.

“I…” began Makoto, lips trembling and Haru wanted to kiss the shaking away, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do, Haru. I don’t know how…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, the strength to express himself and face the demons he was fighting was gone. Green eyes, once so rich and vibrant and alive, now were subdued, shaded and tired as he finally closed them. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead on Haru’s shoulder.

Haru wanted to tell him it was alright. He wanted to tell him _he_ had spent 15 years taking care of him, now he was going to do the same. He wanted to tell Makoto that this was nothing between them.

There was nothing in the world that could fix what had happened or turn back time, just as much as there was nothing that could make Haruka look at him with anything but love.

“I love you, Makoto.”

The whisper was barely breathed out into the broad shoulder he had his lips pressed on. His arms were around Makoto’s chest, holding him and taking his weight evenly. He wasn’t slumped over Haruka but he wasn’t the one supporting them anymore either. And that was fine—that was okay, Makoto just needs to see that.

He didn’t get a response back, as though the body he was holding was simply too exhausted to reply in kind. Though perhaps it was his silence that was his reply, but Haruka didn’t want to think about anything so heart breaking because he knew he wasn’t built to lose him.

But the hands that had risen to his back gave him enough courage to adjust his hold around Makoto to hold him tighter, his own hand moving up to guide his head up. Only just turning his head, Haru pressed a kiss against Makoto’s drier lips. The smooth velvet he once adored to have travel and peck over his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids was now slightly chapped but the warmth was still there.

He didn’t expect a response. But when he felt Makoto shift and push back on his own feet to pull him closer the knot that had tightened in his chest suddenly loosened and came undone. The kiss was slowly being reciprocated, lips he had missed having on top of his moving slowly, dragging themselves through it tiredly but Haru felt the love and appreciation Makoto felt towards him.

He didn’t need it; he would have done everything and more no matter the way Makoto looked at him. He was hopeless, held bound by him so tightly by his own heartstrings that they sang and hummed happily when he was touched like this after so long.

Haru had missed him, and now he had him again.

* * *

 

“Let’s go back to bed… Haru-chan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oooh dear. I was somewhat troubled by this one, if only because I had never watched SAO before, ahaha. I didn't want to change it that much though, so I took the basic idea and kept the rest really vague.  
> But I do hope the recipient likes this! I did initially plan to put in some Rintori, but I got so caught up with Haru and Mako that I ended up reaching the word limit before I could and exceeding it too.  
> Merry Christmas!


End file.
